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A Book of Short Poems 



DR. A/LMilLLON 

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ALBUQUERQUE 

ALBRIGHT & ANDERSON 

PUBLISHERS 



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COPYRIGHT 1914 

BY 

A. L. DILLON 



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MAY 29 1914 



S)aA37424G 



CONTENTS. 

Page 

Douceur 7 

Holy, Holy, Holy 8 

An Inquiry 9 

Jes Keep Cool 11 

Superiority 12 

Try Again 13 

Cupid Wiles 14 

A Disappointed Fisherman 15 

An Impromptu Proposal 16 

An Unfortunate Doctor 19 

Truth 20 

Bluebird 21 

My Christmas Gifts 22 

Mr. Ideal Husband 23 

The Robber 24 

I Want Your Roses Now 26 

An Excuse 27 

A Doctor's Professional Pride 29 

Heartless Wretch 30 

Stung 31 

Why Don't She Write? 32 

Happiness 33 

The Answer 34 

A Change of Mind 37 

My Valentine 39 

Beyond the Bar 41 

Fair Warning 42 

Match Making 43 

The Dawn 45 

The Parting 47 

A Hay Rube Soliloquy 49 

A Willing Widow 51 

My Surrender 52 

Distance Don't Count When You Got a Mobeel 53 

Faith 55 

The Deacon 57 

His Parting Gift 59 

The One Man's Town 60 

The New and The Old 61 

Wedding Ceremony 62 

Youth and Manhood 63 

An Unfortunate Editor 64 



ILLUSTRATIONS, 



"You'll get no whar a standin' still" 10 

"But sad, alas, their aches and ills" 18 

"Shet up you nigga and stop dat singin' " 36 

"But reason says 'Stay where you are' " 40 

"I long to watch the sparkling fire" 46 

"He didn't need no glasses on when lookin' fer a 
pea" 56 



PREFACE. 

Yf AM AWARE that peril stalks 
1l The path where fame is found; 
Humiliation, jeers and mocks 
The poet unrenowned — 

And well I know, that solemn sage 
With deeply wrinkled face 

Will scan this booklet page by page — 
Pronounce it a disgrace. 

But if it bring a pleasant thought. 
Provoke an honest smile; 

If just a simple truth be taught, 
The effort is worth while. 



DOUCEUR. 

OMETHING, my friend, to please you, 
Something to make you smile. 
When days are dark and joys are few, 

I hope this little gift to you 
May cheer your way awhile. 




HOLY! HOLY! HOLY! 

Yf CALLED her on the phone one day 
AL To talk a while as good friends may, 
She laughed and joked, and said that she 
Was just as busy as could be. 

My curiosity, just then. 
Was roused more than it should have been, 
I begged of her, I plead, I guessed — 
To learn her task I did my best. 

At last she told me haltingly, 
"I count them o'er and o'er to see 
That I have missed none, carelessly — 
No, No, 'tis not my Rosary." 

'And since you cannot hold your tongue, 
This secret from me you have wrung; 
My task is holy as can be, 
I'm mending Daddy's hosiery." 



8 



AN INQUIRY. 

^^rt-HITHER art thou bound, my friend? 
-li^t* Have you a purpose true? 
Or does the pathway swerve and bend? 
How does it seem to you? 

Why do you hasten on your way ? 

Why seek out the unknown? 
That you, some future distant day, 

May reap what you have sown ? 

If that be all, then rest content, 

Your efforts are in vain. 
Your time and labor, both, thus spent, 

Are lost in selfish gain. 




'You'll get no whar a standin' still. 



JE8 KEEP COOL. 

CHEER UP, Old Rastus, jes keep cool, 
And kick your heels in dat ole mule. 
It's not so much which road you goes. 
Nor what you wears, nor what you knows. 

Now don you stay dar settin' still, 
But make dat ole mule climb de hill. 
Mos' folkses grieves and pines a lot 
'Bout de things dat dey are not. 

Dat ole mule don hab nary care. 
But all the same he sure gets dere. 
Nor dat ole mule can't read nor write 
But all de same he knows a si^^ht. 

Jest give dat ole mule plenty rein 
And keep a joggin' down de lane. 
You'll get nowhar a standin' still 
So keep a-goin' fit to kill. 



// 



a 



SUPERIORITY. 
HERE 'S no use talkin, Sweetheart, dear, 



£^ I know that I'm above you, 
But don't get angry, have no fear. 
Because, you know, I love you. 

Now don't get mad, don't pull your hair, 
Don't say, "He's egotistic." 

Don 't say, " If I were only there, 
I'd make things realistic." 

'Tis not good form to fret and cry, 

To yell with indignation; 
"I'd have you know, I occupy 

The more exalted station." 

But pardon me, for it was rude 
To speak of my high station. 

I only meant the altitude — 
A mile of elevation. 



12 



TRY AGAIN. 

HAT'S de use ob pinin* 
All yo ' life away ? 
What if de sun ain 't shinin ' 
All de liblong day? 



an 



You t'inks de worl's agin you— 
Yes, youse feelin' blue — 

Dere's no one to befren' you, 
Sweetheart proved untrue. 

Don' you pine until youse dead, 
Cheer up an' be gay. 

Help to paint de ole town red, 
Dat's de only way. 



^S 



CUPID'S WILES. 

DOUBT. 

flVt'O, she can't tell, she told me so, 
S\ And she was frank, but I don't know, 
For something whispers every day, 
"She's thinking more than she will say." 

CONFUSION. 

She tells herself, ' ' It cannot be, 
Because, because, because, well he — 
Oh, I can't think well any more, 
I'm more confused than e'er before." 

IMPATIENCE. 

''Why don't he act like others do, 
And court ahead a year or two, 
And act just like a bold Knight would ? 
The dear old boy, I know he could." 

CONCESSION. 

And I admit it is a shame 
That I can't join her in the game, 
I love to court, and I would, too. 
But I can 't wait a year or two. 

PERPLEXITY. 

Her lips say no, her heart says yes, 

And which speaks true, 'tis hard to guess. 

What shall I say, what shall I do. 

Does voice speak false, or eyes speak true ? 

^4 



A DISAPPOINTED FISHERMAN. 

q^IGGA, Nigga, git dat fish hook, 
i^ Bring dat spade and dig some bait. 

Hurry, hurry, to dat dep 'st nook, 
Chillen, dar 's no time to wait. 

Kase dem fish am pow'ful fretful — 

Jes' a starvin' mos' to def. 
Lija, you is so fo-getful, 

Bring dat 'backer on de she 'f . 

Here we is beside de ribber. 

Bait de hook and cast de line, 

Mercy me, de Lord deliber ! 

Ain't dat fish a-bitin' fine? 

Jump back, Pete ; hey, look out, Murtle, 
Zip ker splash! He'll weigh five poun'- 

Lordy, jes' a old mud turtle — 
Lija, pass dat 'backer roun'. 



'S 



AN IMPROMPTU PROPOSAL. 

YT STOOD beside a maiden fair, 
A Admired her brilliant eyes and hair, 
Admired her gown of latest style — 
Her pretty face — her winsome smile. 

And meditating by her side 
I pictured her a fair June bride. 
I saw a home — the home was mine — 
My vision was indeed divine. 

And how I longed to know my fate 
I'd been compelled to wait and wait, 
Until my zeal had almost died — 
She still refused to be a bride. 

To my surprise she turned to me 
And said, ' ' Sweetheart, Sweetheart, to thee 
I gladly, freely give my hand, 
Accept, I plead, implore, command. *' 

The brilliant luster left her eye, 

She almost swooned at my reply — 

*' Although you're pretty, yes, just grand, 

I simply would not have your hand. 



i6 



AN IMPROMPTV PROPOSAL. 

There's not a queen, a king nor ace — 
On not a card is there a face, 
And, while I'm very fond of whist, 
I can't accept, so don't insist." 

She turned about, her face ascrew, 
* 'Partner," she gasped, "it's bridged to you." 
Her partner promptly took the que, 
Shall I to hearts play ? " " Yes, pray do. ' ' 



( i 



n 











'But sad, alas, their aches and ills 
Were gone when he got there." 



AN UNFORTUNATE DOCTOR. 

V|T'HREE times he heard the call for aid, 
KJ^ Three times with bated breath 
He rushed pell-mell and unafraid , 
To save a soul from death. 

Thrice did he seize his case of pills, 
Thrice through the cold night air, 

But sad, alas, their aches and ills. 
Were gone when he got there. 



^9 



TRVTH. 

jr WONDER, sometimes as I muse, 
li Why people act so queer? 

They grasp at things they should refuse 
And worthless thinsfs hold dear. 

They often act and say and do. 
The things they do not mean; 

Search far and wide for something new, 
Or sit and idly dream. 

They do not realize, it seems. 

That virtue tried and true 
Exists not only in our dreams 

But in our heartaches, too. 

Come down awhile, from off the heights, 
On to the level plain, 

And search for truth with all your might- 
Truth is the golden grain. 

Be what you are and do not try 
To make yourself a dunce. 

This "let-on business" I decry — 
Do be "Yourself" just once. 



20 




BLUEBIRD, 

LUEBIRD, Bluebird, fleet of wing, 
With songs of love so free, 
I am waiting-, come and bring 
The love she sends to me. 

Bluebird, Bluebird, heart so gay 

With joy I welcome thee; 
Sing for me your sweetest lay — 

Love's sweetest melody. 

Sweetheart, Sweetheart, songs of love 

I'll ever sing to thee, 
Like the Bluebird there above. 

Singing in the tree. 



JZI 



MY CHRISTMAS GIFTS. 

tf^ANY GIFTS before me lay, 
/wl'^'From friends, both near and far away, 
Each bearing me a message dear 
Of hope and love and Christmas cheer. 

Some sent by friends, with motives true. 
And e'en for that more precious, too; 
Some sent by those who strive to hold 
My friendship by the price of gold. 

You ask which gift I love the best. 
Which one more treasured than the rest. 
The gift I prize most tenderly? — 
The one that bears most love to me. 



22 




MR. IDEAL HUSBAND. 

R. IDEAL HUSBAND, pray where can you be, 
I've searched far and wide and nowhere can I see 
A man that resembles the picture I drew, 
When I was a school girl and thinking of you. 

I thought I saw clearly just how you would look, 
The faults I discarded, the virtues I took, 
And placed them about you with infinite care, 
A wonderful creature I saw standing there. 

But somehow or other my picture has changed, 
Since looking about, it is all rearranged. 
Mr. Ideal Husband, my searching is through, 
The dream is sublime but it cannot come true. 



^S 



TEE ROBBER. 

^J!J^WAS two A. M., the night was cold, 

\tPA robber came in search of gold. 
The mansion in its shrouded gloom, 
Was dark and quiet as a tomb. 

He took a jimmy from his kit, 
Removed a pane of glass with it. 
His agile form crept through the space; 
He calmly looked about the place. 

He flashed his light upon the gloom^ 
He stood within a maiden 's room. 
The sleeping maiden sweet and fair, 
Knew not that he was standing there. 

The treasure in a jewel tray 
Nearby upon a table lay, 
Kich, sparkling gems of rarest hue, 
And gold and silver trinkets, too. 

The maiden woke as from a dream, 
Her heart stood still, she tried to scream. 
The burglar seeing her alarm, 
Assured her that he meant no harm. 



24 



THE BOBBER. 

Her hand beneath the pillow slid 
As if some jewel there were hid, 
The robber turned, his pistol drew, 
''Give that to me or I'll kill you. 

■ Have you a pistol under there, 

Or some old keepsake rich and rare? 

Resist me not, Oh, maiden bold, 

I'll have your life or have your gold. " 



'Oh, spare me this, just this," she cried, 
' Pray let this wish be not denied. ' ' 
'Take all the gold, the jewel bag. 
But spare my precious powder rag." 



^5 



I WANT YOUR ROSES NOW. 

^titJ-HAT will it boot, when I am dead, 
IlJlI When cold sweat rims my brow, 

To place your wreaths upon my head? — 
I want your roses now. 

Now, while my fondest hopes are new — 
While sunshine fills my life — 

Oh, trust me, trust me, Florist, do, 
'Till she becomes my wife. 

And now he saunters homeward bound, 

The hour, it is not late. 
She 'd been engaged a year, he found. 

(The florist paid the freight.) 



26 



AN EXCUSE. 

^ItttjELL, Sweetheart, let's suppose that you 
^Itltl Do have a temper like a shrew, 
Suppose again, if this were true, 
What would your gallant lover do? 

Do you suppose that he would write 
And tell you frankly that you might 
Look for some other gallant Knight, 
With greater skill to fence and light? 

Or would he rush down to the store 
And buy a wagon load or more 
Of boxing gloves and then implore 
'Ye Gods, my wasted strength restore"? 

And would the papers print the dope, 
"Found, found at last the white man's hope. 
Jack Johnson 's running for his life — 
He fears the man who licked his wife. ' ' 

Or, would his soul be filled with awe ? 
Would he invoke the aid of law? 
Enjoin the shrew to hold her tongue. 
Proclaiming loudly, he 'd been stung ? 



^7 



AN EXCUSE. 

I 'spose I wouldn't do a thing 
But read and write and play and sing, 
And love you till you soon would be 
Ashamed to speak cross words to me. 

But what's the use to s'pose when you 
Don't have a temper like a shrew. 
No; this excuse will never do, 
I'd take you and your temper, too. 



2S 



A DOCTOR'S PROFESSIONAL PRIDE. 

'Jtjtt' ITH heart in my work, contentment abides, 
-Wi* The hours pass swiftly, no languor betides, 
Giving out tablets and powders and pills, 
Allaying bad pains and curing grave ills. 

Just going about of my own accord, 
Knowing that soon I shall reap the reward. 
What other profession gives half the joy — 
That gives more pleasures with less to annoy? 

Verily, verily, it is sublime, 
Something to think about all of the time. 
Headaches and backaches, with fever and chills — 
Dreadful sick patients all making their wills. 

With heart in my work, — I accept your applause, 
You think that I work for the good of the cause. 
But I'm most inclined to be bright and sunny 
Just when my patients are giving me money. 



-?9 



HEARTLESS WRETCH. 

©LD THING, why did you do it ? 
You almost drove me mad. 
Some day I will make you rue it, 
I'll make your friends feel sad. 

I'll burst you all to splintereens, 
I'll break you all to smash — 

No compromise or go-betweens, 
My actions will be rash. 

Yes, keep your hands before your face, 
You ought to feel ashamed. 

With condemnation and disgrace. 

Henceforth shall you be blamed. 

"What did you do ? Of all the nerve ! 

Of course you never knew; 
You were too busy to observe. 

You horrid creature, you. 

I'll tell you what it was, you shrew, 
You made the minutes fly. 

You made me quit before I knew, 
Just what was what, and why. 

A cuckoo clock, of all the things 

I hope to never be; 
You ^ave my moments fleeting wings — - 

It's highway robbery. 



30 



STUNG. 

I WONDER what the trouble is— 
Why every thing went wrong, 
And set my heart to aching 

And robbed me of my song? 

Time was when I was happy 

And cheerful as could be. 
There were no clouds up in the sky, 

And all was joy, for me. 

Then life seemed worth living. 

And I had hope and cheer. 
But all at once the sky grew dark 

And I was filled with fear. 

What was it that took hold of me ? 

What made those clouds appear? 
What filled my soul with doubt and gloom ? 

What robbed me of my cheer ? 

Don't tell me ''that it's God's own way 
To make your pathway plain" — 

Don't tell me "that each life must have 
It 's sunshine and its rain. ' ' 

No ; I know what the trouble is, 
I know what makes me blue. 

It's 'cause she took my college chum 
On her wedding trip, — Boo ! Hoo ! 

3^ 



WHY DON'T SHE WRITE? 

ALL through the day I meditate, 
I dream and dream throughout the night, 
Why does my sweetheart make me wait ? 
I wonder why she does not write. 

A thousand reasons I've assigned, 

"With not a fault ascribed to her. 

You know, 'tis said that love is blind — 
Since I'm in love, I must infer. 

'She is so busy all the while, 

She's entertained from dark till dawn; 
With charmino" grace and winsome smile, 

Society still leads her on." 

And then, again, I sometime think, 

''Her envelopes and paper's out — 
The pen is lost, she spilled the ink. 

And stamps are lacking, too, no doubt. ' ' 



Since last she wrote the bluebird came. 
And sang to me, ''You need not fear, 

She has the picture of her flame 
Upon her dresser, alw^ays near. 



J ? 



S2 



HAPPINESS. 

JjfJAPPINESS, true and tender, 
T^ Knows no doubt, or fear. 
The soul shines forth in splendor, 
And Heaven itself draws near. 

It takes away life's bitter cup. 
It makes the man more true, 

It bids the weary one look up 
Into the sky so blue. 

Ah ! yes, I'm happy thou art mine, 

I know you will be true. 
May truest love our hearts entwine, 

As one instead of two. 

And then as life flows sweetly on. 
And we are crowned with years, 

And all these trials then are gone 
And memory endears — 

I'll thank thee, then, dear Happiness, 
Which represents for me - 

Just one true girl, and nothing less, 
And that true girl is Thee. 



ss 




TEE ANSWER, 

HE was a little old, no doubt, 
A rather tall creation. 
Her lips encircled all about 
"With firm determination. 

At Sunday School she taught a class 
Of little girls and boys, 

And in the choir none could surpass 
Her high soprano voice. 



ct 



It seems so strange, ' ' she often sighed, 

* * I never have a beau, 
And how I've yearned to be a bride 
No one will ever know.'* 

But all at once from out the gloom 

Of her despairing eye, 
There came a martyr to his doom. 

Resolved to win or die. 

''Oh, joy!'' she cried, ''the Lord is good, 
Just look what he has sent, 
Teach me to do the things I should 
And make me penitent. 



>> 



S'f 



it 



i i 



THE ANSWER. 

What shall I do?" ''What shall I say?" 

A voice within her said, 
I must not let him get away 

The first beau I have had. ' ' 

She wrote the Weekly Query Page, 
And said, ''Please answer Flo — 

In your department, Madam Sage — 
My fond heart yearns to know — 

'Age thirty-nine; should I allow 

My first and only beau, 
To kiss me gently on the brow, 

Say, just a time or so?" 

The paper came ; her heart stood still, 
The answer said, "Dear Flo, 

Yes ; let him kiss you, if he will ? 
I'm glad I'm not your beau." 



SS 



A CHANGE OF MIND. 

51% IS here nigga gal ain 't crazy 
2t* 'Bout marryin 'any way, 

Kase mos nigga 's air so lazy, 

I'd jes be thro win' mysef away. 

I makes a libin now for no one, 

'Cept jes mysef, 'cept me alone, 

G ' way yo ' husbands, I don ' wan ' none. 
Lord, I'se got a h'art ob stone. 

Me git married ? Hush yo ' talkin ' 
Dere'll be no weddin' bells fo me. 

You don't ketch dis here nigga walkin' 
In no trap like dat 'ud be. 

Lawsy me, de foam am ringin' 

Wonder who 'n de worl' could be. 

Shet up you nigga, stop dat singin ' 
Some one wants to talk to me. 

Yes sar, dis is Miss Lucile, 

Yes sar, yes sar, dis is me, 

Youse gwine to buy er new mobeel — 
And I 'se yo ' lil honey bee ! 



S7 



A CHANGE OF MIND. - 

Yo' Uncle died in Alabamy, 
And lef you all his money! 

You got no sister nor no mammy — 
Will 1 be yo ' lil hnoey ? 

You wants me to set de date — 

When we'll be jined in wedded bliss 

In jes one ower — now don' be late, 
But tell me, honey, who am dis? 



S^ 



11 



MY VALENTINE. 



HO is the dearest one to me? 
Whose love would I enshrine ? 



It is the love that comes from thee- 
From Thee, My Valentine. 



S9 







'But reason says 'stay where you are.' 



BEYOND THE BAB. 

3UST over there, it don't seem far 
And yet, I dare not cross the bar, 
And though an angel waits for me 
I can not, dare not, cross the lea. 

Yet while I linger shadows fall. 
The darkness deepens, fears appall. 
And while my fain heart bids me go, 
My better judgment tells me ''no. 



i i ^^ " 



Just over there it don't seem far 
But reason says ''stay where you are, 
And sing your love to yon bright star. 
Destruction waits beyond the bar. 



) > 



4^ 



FAIR WARNING. 

'^JIJER mother let the secret out, 
3^4- T'was plain as plain could be. 
She put it in her note, no doubt, 
So I would plainly see. 

I wonder why she told me that — 
What made her hint so plain? 

To ascertain if I'd stand pat 
Or ^'beat it" in disdain? 

She said she didn't have a dime, 
That she could call her own. 

I'm glad she told me that in time, 
I might have never known. 

But I know better, she is rich. 

As rich as rich can be — 
A millionaire in virtue, which 

Is wealth enough for me. 



^* 



MATCH MAKING. 

^I" JRAY can you tell me where they're made? 
^^ If you can tell, please do. 

I've searced until I am dismayed 
So I am asking you. 

I thought perhaps that you might know, 

Alas, you shake your head. 
Is it above, or here below? 

"What was it that you said? 

'What question do I wish to know — 

What task have I assayed?" 
In heaven above, or here below. 

Just where are matches made? 

The preacher says, ''whom God doth join 

Let no man put asunder," 
But all the same he takes the coin. 

Who makes the match, I wonder? 

Some matches glow with brilliant light, 

I sometimes think 'tis true, 
That what the preacher says is right, 

I wish I knew, don't you? 



43 



MATCH MAKING. 

I've looked and looked upon the box 

And nowhere does it tell, 
Although it don't sound orthodox, 

I'll bet they're made in — a match factory. 

But after all, though, I don't care. 

It makes no ''Dif" to me. 
What do I care for matches? 

I've electricity. 



44 



THE DAWN. 

y^l^ACH morning I wake at early dawn 
>WAnd look from out my window to the east, 
There where the sky and earth blend into one 
I see the cold gray light come creeping on, 
With here and there a fleecy floating cloud 
Melting in the ever brightening light, 
Soon disappearing with the fading night. 

Then suddenly glows a dazzling light, 
Brighter! Brighter! 'tis the glorious sun, 
Fades the cold gray night in golden sunshine. 
The world made brighter by the golden rays, 
My soul is enraptured by the sight, 
That I almost forget the cold, cold night — 
Anticipating noontide's fervent glow. 

But brighter far than morning's rosy light 

With all its hope and promise for the day. 

More reassuring than the noontide glow, 

Which floods the world with brilliance everywhere. 

Yes, more divine than sunset at the close 

Of the most perfect day the world has known — 

My dream of life with thee, my Love, my Own. 



45 




'I long- to watch the sparkling fire." 



THE PARTING. 

SLONG to watch the sparkling fire- 
Its bright and ruddy glow, 
In Autumn days, my heart's desire 

As sadly home I go — 
Is just to sit and idle there. 

To gaze into the light 
And wonder if she's still as fair. 
As on that summer night. 

'Twas then I saw her sweetly smile. 

As she looked up to me, 
And told me ''Dearest, after while. 

When I have crossed the sea — 
There in the mansions of the blest 

I'll wait and long for thee" — 
But she was gone and all the rest. 

She might have said to me. 

And so I sit and dream tonight, 

Before the ruddy glow, 
I wonder if those eyes so bright 

Would still beguile me so. 
I wonder if those lips so red. 

Those cheeks of rosy hue, 
The golden curls upon her head 

Are still as fresh and new. 



47 



TEE PARTING. 

It's all a joke, she never died, 

"We met down by the sea. 
When I asked her to be my bride 

She only laughed at me. 
Then told me all of that blamed stuff, 

And as she ran away, 
She curtly said, ''I've had enough 

Proposals for one day." 



4S 



A HAY RUBE'S SOLILOQUY. 

AIN'T Belle cute behind the counter? 
You orter see her standin' there, 
Sparklin' eyes and smilin' face; 
A purty flower in her hair. 

An* all the other clerks assistin' — 

But they'r no count, compared to her, 

For she just keeps right on insistin' 
Till you pay her so much per. 

My, but that Gal, she's a winner. 

If I hed money like a king, 
I'd stop as I went home to dinner. 

And buy a fine engagement ring. 

And when she handed me the ring — 

And I confess it would seem strange — 

I'd jest say, says I, *'By jing, 

Little Gal, jes keep the change. 

And put that ring right on your finger, 

And wear it till Eternity, 
Meanwhile promise that you'll linger 

'Bout the house and cook for me." 



49 



A HAY RUBE'S SOLIOQUY. 

But I'm too bashful, durn it all, 

I wish I had a little sand 
Now days it takes a heap of gaul 

To ask a maiden for her hand. 

But leap year's comin'; it's almost here. 

An' then the way will all be cleared, 
Pshaw, I ain't got a bit a fear , 

For Belle's a gal that don't get skeered. 



so 



A WILLING WIDOW. 

^TJIJRS. IKA BLOOMBEE cummed to our house to- 
/m!V\ day, said "she jest dropped in a bit and hadn't 
long to stay." And Ma she said, when she set down — 
"Law, hain't you heard the news, about the Widder 
Davis, wearin' out her shoes jest trottin' round the 
neighborhood a gossipin' like sin 'bout the new young 
preacher thet jest dropped in. The one thet's been to 
Chiny, a mishunairy there, thet tells sech awful stories, 
thet raises up yer hair, 'bout the Boxers risin' and 
killin' scores and scores uf Methodists an' Baptists 
what's perachin' on them shores. Thet Widder 's actin' 
mighty queer, — it's purty plain ter me. I wouldn't put 
it past her — ^knowin' what she be, to hear the news most 
eny day — an' course she's agged it on — thet her and 
thet there preacher, hev done eloped and gone." An' 
'bout thet time the door bell rings an' Ma she goes to 
see, and in walks Mrs. Davis with the mishunairy, and 
says, "This is my oldest brother, thet's been off to 
Chiny." I never saw a woman squeshed like my Ma 
seemed to be. She sorter fell back in her chair, jes like 
she's over come, and when she got her breath agin she 
said, "You favor some — I hope yer brother likes the 
place, an' will decide to stay, you know we've hed no 
meetin' since our preacher went away. I'm jest a lone- 
some widder — my home's without a man and if you'd 
choose to marry me, why yes, — of course, you can. 



5' 



y J 



MY SURRENDER. 

^1^ ES, I have heard him chant and sing 
j2 He ruined my arrangements. 

The rogue, he spoiled most everything — 
Caused quarrels and estrangements. 

I had my ideals pictured out, 

All preconceived in splendor. 

Just then he put my plans to rout — 
Demanded my surrender. 

But I was loathe to loose the fight, 
I just stood still and waited. 
I knew the while, that he was right 
But still I hesitated. 

Then all at once with steady hand 

With true and trusty eye, 
"With steady nerve at his command. 

He let the weapon fly. 

Right then and there I cried, ''I yield, 

I know that I must fall, 
You 've pierced my armour, plate and shield 

So I surrender all." 

And still you can't guess who it is — 
Oh my ! Oh my ! how stupid. 

You surely ought to guess, Gee Whiz! 
The rascals name is Cupid. 



5^ 



DISTANCE DON'T COUNT WEEN YOU'VE GOT A 

MOBEEL. 

>|t^IT IN, Bill Brown, and hev a lift, 
^& I know jest how y' feel 
Come on, git in, now don't be miffed 
'Cause I 've a new mobeel. 

I hev been lucky, thet's the truth; 

I 've made some easy dough — 
I told my wife, Suzanna Ruth, 

"We'll get a way to go. 

This thing uv hitchin' up ole Dunn 

And joggin' down ter town, 
Is jest too slow few eny one — 

It runs my spirits down. ' ' 

And so, you see, I bought a car ; 

It seemed the thing to do — 
No, Bill, it's not so very far — 

A hundred mile or two. 

I'm jest a goin' down to Zeke's 

To roast them country folks. 
See, Bill, them fences look like streaks — 

My, how the engine smokes. 



S3 



DISTANCE DON'T COUNT WHEN YOU'VE GOT A 

MOBELL. 

But thet's a sign she's runnin' fine — 

Some class to this mobeel ; 
I tell y' Bill. I'm glad she's mine, 

Y'know jest how I feel. 

Hey, Bill ! Jump out ! She 's gon ' a bust ! 

Good Gosh, she's all afire! 
Lord ! Things is cummin ' to the wurst. 

Whatever made me buy 'er. 

A thousand bones, gone up in smoke, 

A mortgage on my place — 
Don't sniker. Bill, this ain't no joke — 

I '11 punch you in the face. 

Thet pesky agent said ter me- 



' Sy, think how rich you '11 feel. ' ' 
''Why, distance, it don't count," says he, 
' ' A ridin ' in a mobeel. ' ' 

But I've my doubts concerning that, 
I swallered thet whole speel. 

Home, — leven miles from where we 're at— 
You know. Bill, how I feel. 



S4 



FAITH. 

JIJfHERE is no trial, sent by God 
\fJ^ But can be borne, 
The paths you tread, the Master trod, 
So do not mourn. 

Although your future path seems dark, 

Be not afraid. 
With faith in God and Self, embark— 

Be undismayed. 

Then follow on the unseen hand 

That points the way — 
And find at last the Blessed Land 

Of Endless Day. 



SS 




"He didn't need no glasses on. 
When lookin' fer a pea." 



SI 



TEE DEACON. 

f^ HE day was cold and cloudy, 
iSi^ And frost was in the air. 
But Deacon Jones hitched up his horse 
And started to the Fair. 

He did not take his Wife and Kids 

Because, as he erlowed, 
*' They'd be so many people there 

He'd lose 'em in the crowd." 

So while they stayed at home that day 
And scrubbed and swept and sewed. 

The Deacon took in all the sights — 
''The wine jest overflowed." 



At last he saw a swell dressed guy 
"With three shells and a pea 

A telling everybody ''Why 
Just step right up and see, 

How easy 'tis for any man, 

Though he were blind, to tell — 

When he had bet some money — 
Which was the winning shell. ' ' 



57 



THE DEACON. 

The Deacon 'lowed ''as how his eyes 
Were purty good ter see — 

He didn't need no glasses on 
When lookin ' f er a pea. ' ' 

He bet his money, ev'ry cent — 
He picked the winning shell, 

But when he looked beneath the thing — 
My ! how the crowd did yell. 

Mirandy said, when he got home, 

' ' Now Deacon, where 's yer dough ? 

Where is yer roll er green backs ? 
Thet's what I'd like ter know." 

'Mirandy, hush, — the question ain't 
Where did thet money go — 

But what becum of thet durned pea ? 
Thet's what I'd like ter know." 



SS 



EI8 PARTING GIFT, 

(To a Telephone Girl) 

YT HATES it cause youse goin' Poil. 
AL My ole heart aches in me. 
My doined old coco's in a whoil 
Dese old glims, dey can 't see. 

Kase tears air streamin' down me cheeks, 

I jest can't keep 'em back. 
For you'll be gone for weeks and weeks, 

I'm sorry dat's a fac. 

Say, kiddo, when youse over dere 

A pushin ' plugs like sin. 
Do you suppose dat you will care 

For home folks where youse been? 

Dis is me latest fotygraf, 

I had it took for you. 
De artist sed, "now, smile and laugh," 

But dat, I couldn't do. 

Some day, when you ain 't f eelin ' fine 

Jes' all mixed up and blue, 
Youse look at dis ole fiz of mine 

And see what it will do. 



S9 



THE ONE MAN'S TOWN. 

'JjLJ IS mien is arrogant, — austere 
3^4- And on his face a frown 
He fills your very soul with, fear 
Because he owns the town. 

From day to day, he's want to say 

' ' I salted my coin down. 
I saved up for the rainy day 

And now I own the town. ' ' 

Nobody else has any say 

The old man wears the crown. 
He rules as only despot may 

Because he owns the town. 

An oil boom came, one warm spring day 
And hit the ''One Man's Town, 

It grew so fast from day to day. 
The old man lost his crown. 



) t. 



60 



THE NEW AND THE OLD. 

CHRISTMAS time has come once more, 
The New Year stretches on before, 
The Old Year lingers on the shore 
Of that vast ocean, Nevermore. 

Old Year, should I be glad to see 
The New Year come and set you free ? 
In all your days of sun and rain 
Have all my labors been in vain ? 

No noble deed, no action true 
By which I may remember you ? 
No worthy treasure that may be 
An heirloom of the past from thee ? 

Farewell Old Year, farewell to you, 
I must make haste to greet the new. 
New Year step in and take your place 
With honest eye and smiling face. 

And all I ask, New Friend, from thee. 
Is just the opportunity 
To glean from every day you give 
Some truth, that will forever live. 



6i 



WEDDING CEREMONY. 

Bridegroom 

ALL through, the years I promise thee 
A love of perfect purity. 
A love as boundless as the sea, 
Through Life — through Death, Eternity. 

Minister 

More precious than the purest gold — 
Than rarest gems that earth doth hold, 
A priceless gift, a sacred vow 
Is offered thee ; accept it now. 

Bride. 

Not here in Earth, nor Heaven above 
Is there a gift so great as Love 
This I accept, — I ask no more 
And I am thine for evermore. 



62 



YOUTH AND MANHOOD 

^IJ- ERE I stand beneath the sky 
SPl- The rolling ocean at my feet. 
Here I pause to say, Good Bye 

Where the land and ocean meet. 

Yes, good bye, with aching breast — 
To the land that was my home ; 

Slumber on in peaceful rest 

'Neath your cloudless, sunlit, dome. 

Where my boyhood days were spent. 

Where my life knew naught of care. 
There your magic charm was lent. 

To inspire my youthful prayer. 

Lord above, lend ear once more. 

May the victory be complete 
As I journey from the shore — 

The shore, where Youth and Manhood meet. 

May my courage never falter. 

Guide Thou straight my wayward feet. 
Consecrate my youthful alter, 

Where the Past and Future meet. 



6s 



AN UNFORTUNATE EDITOR. 

Late one night I was hurriedly called to attend the Editor 
of the local paper. Upon inquiry the family informed me that 
I had been called to attend the unfortunate patient, not because 
they preferred me as a physician, but because there was no 
other who could give relief. When I expressed astonishment 
and asked an explanation, I was told to step into the padded 
room where the victim was raving, and learn for myself. 

I heard the following: 

J5f HEY chase me here, they chase me there, 
\iy I flee in desperation. 
I'm almost driven to despair, — 
To dire exasperation. 

I see them in my busy hours, 

They find me in seclusion, 
They come in droves, they come in showers, 

My brain is in confusion. 

When will they cease to torture me ? 

When may I welcome peace ? 
Where shall I hide, where shall I flee ? 

When will this torment cease? 

Oh ! sweeter far, a prison cell. 

Yea, hang me 'til I'm dead. 
Yes, take this life I love so well, 

But give me peace instead. 

Come on you footpads, murder me — 

Oh, stab me, stab me, Villain, 
But spare me from that poetry 

Composed by Doctor Dillon. 

64 



